s4vyc4ndy

[s4vyc4ndy]

Riddle is not Emo or Goth! Emo style focuses more on expressing sadness and depression. Idia, or rather his outlook on life, would be Emo.

Goth is more romantic with a focus on macabre topics like death and mortality but not as much sadness, closer to Malleus.

Riddle’s dream perspective is different from these two!

He’s dreaming about being wild, chaotic, and breaking the law! He wants to form a band and rebel! Cater said that Leona’s dorm uniform would fit with Riddle’s idea!!

Riddle’s outfit combines various patterns and styles. Pearls and too many rings! Three different types of socks! A fur coat with various patches! His perspective is loud, wild, and in your face!

He’s PUNK!

[s4vyc4ndy]

Atsumu, Sakusa, Suna, and Tsukishima reacting to their girlfriend wearing something revealing on a date

Atsumu Miya

Atsumu loves it. The moment he sees you in that outfit, his jaw drops, and he lets out a long whistle.

“Damn, sweetheart, ya tryna kill me before dinner?” He’s shameless about checking you out, grinning like a fool.

He will 100% show you off, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you closer, and making sure everyone knows you’re with him.

If he notices other people staring too much, though, he gets a little possessive. Might throw an arm around your shoulders or kiss your temple just to make it clear you’re taken.

But mostly, he just hypes you up. “Hottest person in the whole damn place, and ya came here with me.”

Sakusa Kiyoomi

At first, he’s stunned silent. His eyes widen slightly, and he stares for a solid few seconds, taking in every detail.

He clears his throat and tries to act normal, but you can see the tips of his ears turning red. “You’re wearing that?”

He’s conflicted—on one hand, you look incredible, but on the other, he hates the idea of other people looking at you the way he does.

The entire date, he’s extra protective, walking close to you, guiding you with a hand on your lower back, and glaring at anyone who stares too long.

At some point, he mumbles, “You look amazing, but next time… maybe something less eye-catching.” He’s not even mad, just struggling.

Suna Rintarō

He raises a single eyebrow when he sees you, smirking. “Well, well, well. What’s the occasion?”

He loves it but plays it cool, teasing you just enough to get a reaction. “Trying to make me jealous? Or just making my job harder?”

If someone stares too much, he just gives them that look—the lazy, unimpressed stare that makes people immediately look away.

The entire night, he has his hand on you somewhere—your waist, your thigh, the small of your back. It’s casual, but there’s a definite you’re mine energy behind it.

At the end of the date, he leans in and murmurs, “Next time, you’re wearing that just for me.”

Tsukishima Kei

The moment he sees you, he pauses. His eyes drag up and down slowly, and then he just… scoffs. “Seriously?”

But don’t be fooled—he is definitely affected. His ears turn pink, and he keeps glancing at you when he thinks you won’t notice.

If you tease him about it, he’ll roll his eyes and say something sarcastic like, “I just don’t want to deal with every idiot staring at you all night.”

He acts annoyed, but he subtly adjusts his stance so he’s always between you and anyone staring too hard.

At the end of the night, when he thinks you’re not looking, he lets himself really admire you and mutters, “You really do look good, though.”

[s4vyc4ndy]

Gym motivation || Iwaizumi Hajime

You always liked watching Iwaizumi workout. It was mesmerizing—the way his muscles flexed and stretched under the weight, the steady rise and fall of his chest as he pushed himself harder, the sharp focus in his eyes. And now, years later, after he had carved a career out of fitness and sports science, watching him train in his own gym was an entirely different kind of experience.

Because now, you got to be part of it.

“Alright, sit,” Iwaizumi says, dropping into a push-up position.

You grin, already moving to straddle his back, your weight settling over his strong frame. His muscles twitch slightly at the added pressure, but he barely hesitates before he starts. Smooth, controlled movements—like you weigh nothing at all.

“Still too easy?” you tease, resting your chin in your palm.

Iwaizumi huffs, but there’s a smirk tugging at his lips. “You’re gonna have to try harder than that.”

You shift your weight slightly, adjusting your position, and he grunts at the change in balance. His arms flex harder, veins popping against his skin as he continues his reps. Your fingers absentmindedly trail over his shoulders, feeling the warmth of his skin, the power beneath it.

“Enjoying the view?” he asks, voice steady despite the strain.

“Very much.” You don’t even try to deny it.

After he finishes his set, you hop off and watch as he moves to the bench press. This time, you’re his spotter, standing at the head of the bench while he lies beneath the bar. His arms extend, lifting the weight effortlessly, but you stay close, hands hovering just in case.

Not that you think he needs it.

His gaze flickers up to yours between reps, and there’s something almost playful in his eyes. “You’re supposed to focus on the bar, not my face.”

“I am focused. Just not on the bar.”

Iwaizumi lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head before racking the weight. He sits up, sweat dripping down his temple, and you hand him his water bottle. He takes a sip, then leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looks at you.

“You should train with me sometime,” he says, wiping the sweat off his face with his shirt—giving you an absolutely unfair glimpse of his abs in the process.

“I am training,” you counter, gesturing to yourself. “Moral support is a very important part of the gym experience.”

He rolls his eyes, but you don’t miss the small smile that tugs at his lips. “Yeah, yeah. You just wanna sit there and look pretty while I do all the work.”

“Exactly,” you say, beaming. “And you love it.”

He doesn’t argue. Instead, he reaches out, tugging you closer by the waist until you’re standing between his legs. His fingers drum lightly against your hip as he looks up at you, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“I do,” he admits, voice low. “But if you’re gonna keep distracting me, I might have to start making you work out with me.”

You pretend to consider it, then shake your head. “Nope. I think I’ll stick to my role.”

Iwaizumi chuckles, pressing a quick kiss to your stomach before standing up. “Fine. But if you’re gonna sit there looking pretty, at least count my reps.”

You grin, hopping onto a nearby bench to continue watching him train.

Best gym session ever.

[s4vyc4ndy]

REQUEST OPEN!

Fandoms I wtite for:

Genshin impact

Haikyuu!

Things I'll write:

Fluff

Angst

Crack

Hurt/comfort

Suggestive

Smut (male characters only)

Au

Dark content (blood, murder, yandere, mafia)

Ships (look at this first)

X readers

Things I won't write:

P*dophilia/r*pe

Format:

Headcanons

Fics

Scenarios/Imagines

[s4vyc4ndy]

First chord of us || Semi Eita

The late afternoon sun spilled golden streaks through the dusty windows of Shiratorizawa Academy’s old music room. Dust motes danced lazily in the beams of light, and the faint hum of volleyballs being spiked in the distance was like a distant heartbeat—steady, familiar, and comforting. But for Semi Eita, none of that mattered. His heart was racing far too fast, thumping wildly against his chest as if it was trying to escape.

Across from him, you sat on one of the worn chairs, your bag slouched at your feet, an easy smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Semi’s hands were clammy, fingers brushing over the cool strings of his guitar. He wasn’t nervous about the chords—they were etched into his muscle memory. No, what terrified him was you.

You were about to become the first person to hear his music.

“I-I mean, it’s nothing special,” he mumbled, trying to sound casual, but his voice betrayed him with a nervous hitch. “I just… thought maybe you'd want to hear it. Or not. You don’t have to.”

You tilted your head slightly, your smile softening into something that made his heart stutter even more. “Eita, I’d love to hear it.”

That was it. No backing out now.

He took a deep breath, fingers finding the first chord—familiar yet foreign under the weight of your attention. His voice, low and a little rough around the edges, wavered only for the first few words. But as the melody flowed, the lyrics wrapped around the room like a fragile confession.

The song wasn’t perfect. His voice cracked slightly on the bridge, and he fumbled a chord near the end. But it was real. Every line was stitched with feelings he’d been too scared to say out loud—how your laughter felt like the first day of spring, how your presence made his world brighter even on the grayest days, how just seeing you turned the ordinary into something extraordinary.

When the last note faded, leaving only the quiet hum of his racing heart, he finally dared to look up. You were staring at him, eyes shimmering with something he couldn’t quite read—until you spoke.

“That was beautiful,” you whispered, voice soft like the song’s final note. “Eita… did you write that about… me?”

His face flushed instantly, ears burning bright red. Semi looked down, fiddling with his guitar strings, mumbling, “Maybe. I mean—yeah. Probably. I guess.”

Silence settled for a heartbeat before you stood, crossing the small distance between you two. You gently took the guitar from his hands, setting it aside before kneeling in front of him. His breath caught.

“I’m really glad you showed me,” you said softly. Then, with a courage he didn’t know he deserved, you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, right where the blush bloomed the fiercest.

Semi felt like he was floating. Like he was still caught in the chorus of his song, wrapped in a melody only you and he could hear.

And in that tiny, dusty music room, under the golden hues of the setting sun, Semi Eita realized that maybe—just maybe—the scariest songs to sing were the ones that mattered most.

[s4vyc4ndy]

Whispers beneath the moon light || Kazuyaka

The moon hung low over Inazuma City, its silver glow casting ethereal patterns across the cobblestone paths and the quiet rooftops of the Kamisato Estate. A soft breeze rustled through the cherry blossom trees, scattering delicate petals like fleeting dreams against the midnight sky. Within her chamber, Kamisato Ayaka sat by the faint flicker of a lantern, lost in the elegant strokes of her calligraphy brush. The world was silent, save for the rhythmic scratch of ink against parchment—until a faint, unexpected tap echoed against her windowpane.

Ayaka’s hand paused mid-stroke. Her heart gave a small, startled flutter. She turned her head, her gaze landing on the shadowed silhouette beyond the paper screen. Rising quietly, she approached, sliding the panel open with practiced grace.

There, perched casually on the branch of a nearby sakura tree, was Kaedehara Kazuha.

His crimson eyes glinted mischievously in the moonlight, a subtle smile tugging at the corners of his lips. A soft breeze played with the loose strands of his silver hair, making him seem almost otherworldly, like a wandering spirit woven from wind and poetry.

“Kazuha?” Ayaka whispered, her voice low yet laced with surprise. “What are you doing here at this hour?”

Kazuha leaned slightly forward, balancing effortlessly on the branch. “I thought the night seemed too beautiful to waste indoors,” he murmured, his voice a gentle ripple in the stillness. “Would you care to join me for a walk? Just you and me—no duties, no formalities.” His gaze softened. “No need to tell your brother.”

Ayaka hesitated, glancing toward the hallway where she knew her brother’s chambers lay silent. The weight of expectations, of family name and duty, pressed against her like the ever-present scent of incense in the estate. Yet, here was Kazuha, offering her a fleeting escape—a moment to breathe beyond the confines of walls and titles.

"Do not worry my lady, your sandals are here" Kazuha gave a cheeky smile while holding up her sandals—heart beating of hope for her to say yes to his offer.

A rare, spontaneous smile curved her lips and Kazuha felt his breath hitch.

Without another word, she slid the window open wider, slipping out gracefully onto the branch beside him. Her bare feet were light against the rough bark, her heart lighter still.

They moved like shadows through the night—silent, swift, and free. Kazuha led the way, weaving through hidden paths and narrow alleys only a wanderer would know. The city felt different under the moon’s gentle gaze, stripped of its daytime noise and duties. Lanterns swayed softly in the breeze, their glow reflecting in Ayaka’s eyes like scattered stars.

Eventually, they reached the edge of the city, where the land opened to rolling meadows touched by moonlight. They paused atop a small hill, the view stretching out like a painting brushed in shades of silver and indigo.

Ayaka took a deep breath, the cool air filling her lungs. “I never realized how different the world feels at night,” she murmured.

Kazuha chuckled softly, plucking a small wildflower and twirling it between his fingers. “The night holds secrets the day can’t understand. It’s when the heart speaks the loudest.”

She glanced at him, the breeze tousling her hair as silence settled between them—not heavy, but comforting, like the pause between notes in a song.

“Thank you,” she whispered after a while.

Kazuha looked at her, a quiet curiosity in his gaze. “For what?”

“For reminding me I’m more than just the duties I carry,” she replied softly, her eyes reflecting the moon’s glow.

Kazuha’s smile deepened, but he said nothing more. Words weren’t needed—not when the night itself seemed to understand.

They stayed there until the horizon began to blush with the first light of dawn, the unspoken promise of their secret night lingering like the soft fragrance of cherry blossoms carried on the wind.

[s4vyc4ndy]

MASTERLIST

•| HAIKYUU

•| GENSHIN IMPACT

What I write:

X readers and ships in both fandoms

Fluff, angst, crack, suggestive, hurt w/comfort, Au's, song fics

What I don't write:

Anything socially problamatic

Problamatic ships

Genshin impact ships:

Alhaitham x Kaveh

Cyno x Tighnari

Mavuika x Capitano

Kinich x Maulani

Ayaka x Kazuha

Ganyu x Keqing

Chongyun x Xingqui x Xianling

Gaming x Yunjin

Zhongli x Xianyun/Guizhong

[s4vyc4ndy]

[ x readers]

None at the moment

[CC only]

Whispers beneath the moonlight || Kazuyaka

[s4vyc4ndy]

[ x readers]

Clean serve, messy heart || Sakusa Kiyoomi

Ace of hearts || Miya Atsumu

First chord of us || Semi Eita

Gym motivation || Iwaizumi Hajime

[CC only]

None at the moment

[s4vyc4ndy]

Miya Atsumu || Ace of hearts

Miya Atsumu was used to attention. On the court, he was a star—powerful serves, sharp sets, and that trademark smirk that had half the crowd swooning. Confidence? He had it in spades.

But all of that meant nothing the second you walked into the gym.

You weren’t flashy. You weren’t trying to catch anyone’s eye. Just sitting on the bleachers, quietly watching practice with a calm, curious expression. No swooning, no blushing, no wide-eyed admiration.

And that? That drove Atsumu absolutely crazy.

Because for the first time in his life, he was the one completely, hopelessly flustered.

Naturally, his solution was to impress you.

Badly.

The next practice was a performance. Atsumu turned up the charm to eleven—extra powerful serves, dramatic dives, exaggerated celebrations every time he made a perfect play.

“Tsumu,” Osamu groaned during a water break, tossing him a towel. “Ya settin’ for the team or auditionin’ for a commercial?”

Atsumu waved him off, flashing that signature grin. “Mind yer business, ‘Samu. Some of us got fans to entertain.”

But when he glanced toward the bleachers, expecting to catch you watching, you were… scrolling on your phone.

Ouch.

Not one to back down, Atsumu switched tactics. After practice, he “casually” strolled over, pretending to wipe sweat from his forehead in the most dramatic way possible.

“Oh hey, didn’t see ya there,” he said, leaning against the bleachers with what he hoped was an effortlessly cool pose.

You looked up, unimpressed. “Really? Because you’ve been glancing over here every five seconds.”

Busted.

Atsumu’s ears turned pink, but he quickly recovered, flashing that bright smile again. “Can ya blame me? Hard not to notice someone like you.”

You snorted. Snorted. Not blushed, not giggled—just a full-on, amused snort.

“Wow. Is that your go-to line?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

His grin faltered for a second, then shifted into something more genuine. Less flashy, less forced. “Nah. Usually, people don’t need lines.”

You tilted your head, curiosity piqued. “Then why bother with me?”

And there it was—the question Atsumu hadn’t really figured out himself.

He scratched the back of his neck, suddenly feeling less like the confident setter and more like some awkward kid with a crush. “Guess ‘cause… ya don’t fall for all that. The flashy stuff. Makes me wanna try harder, y’know?”

Your teasing smile softened just a little. “You don’t have to try so hard, you know. I noticed you before all the theatrics.”

Atsumu blinked. “Ya did?”

You nodded, standing up and slinging your bag over your shoulder. “Yeah. You’re a great setter. But I like this version of you better.”

Then you walked away, leaving Atsumu standing there, heart racing, mouth slightly open.

Osamu passed by, chuckling. “Smooth, lover boy.”

But Atsumu didn’t care.

Because for the first time, he didn’t feel the need to show off.

You already noticed him.

[s4vyc4ndy]

Sakusa Kiyoomi || Clean serve, messy heart

Sakusa Kiyoomi liked order. He liked routines, neatness, and knowing exactly what to expect. His world was made up of carefully folded towels, perfectly timed serves, and a comfortable distance from anything—or anyone—that could disrupt his sense of control.

Then you joined Itachiyama as the new team manager.

And suddenly, Sakusa’s world was an absolute mess.

It wasn’t dramatic, like in the romance movies Komori teased him about. There were no slow-motion moments or violins playing in the background. It was simple—too simple, really. You walked into the gym for the first time, clipboard in hand, offering a polite smile to the team, and Sakusa felt his heart do something completely unfamiliar.

A skip. A stumble. A full-on dive into chaos.

Of course, he’d never admit it.

Instead, he became strategic. If he liked you—and he wasn’t ready to use that word just yet—he’d be subtle. Calm. Rational.

But Sakusa’s version of "subtle" was… questionable at best.

He started standing a little closer during water breaks. Not too close—he wasn’t reckless—but definitely within earshot. He’d clear his throat unnecessarily when you were nearby, just to see if you’d glance at him. (You always did.)

When Komori caught him lingering near the supply closet where you were organizing equipment, Sakusa muttered, “Just needed a towel,” even though he was clearly holding one already.

But his real downfall? The small, thoughtful gestures he couldn’t help but do.

You’d casually mention being cold in the gym, and the next day, an extra hoodie mysteriously appeared on the bench—one that just happened to be his, freshly washed and folded. You’d struggle to reach a clipboard on the top shelf, and Sakusa would suddenly materialize beside you, silent but helpful, retrieving it without a word.

And every time, he’d walk away quickly, face slightly pink, pretending none of it meant anything.

One day after practice, you found him alone, wiping down volleyballs with mechanical precision. The gym was quiet except for the squeak of sneakers against the polished floor.

“Hey, Sakusa,” you called softly, stepping closer.

He stiffened, keeping his focus on the volleyball in his hands. “What?”

You smiled, unfazed by his usual curt tone. “Thanks for the hoodie the other day. It was really thoughtful.”

His hand froze mid-wipe. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “You’re always doing stuff like that, though.”

He finally glanced up, dark eyes meeting yours. His face was carefully neutral, but there was a flicker of something—panic?—beneath the surface.

“Well,” he muttered, looking back down, “someone has to be responsible around here.”

You laughed softly, stepping even closer now. “Is that what this is? Responsibility?”

He opened his mouth, probably to deflect again, but then he made the mistake of looking at you—really looking at you. The warm light of the gym reflected in your eyes, your smile soft and genuine, and suddenly all his carefully built walls felt paper-thin.

“…Maybe not just that,” he admitted quietly, voice barely above a whisper.

Your smile grew, your heart fluttering at the rare glimpse of honesty from him. “Good. Because I was hoping it wasn’t.”

For the first time since you’d met, Sakusa didn’t look away. Instead, he nodded slightly, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips—subtle, quiet, but there.

Messy feelings, it turned out, weren’t so bad after all.

[s4vyc4ndy]

Writing Notes & References

Alchemy ⚜ Antidote to Anxiety ⚜ Attachment ⚜ Autopsy

Art: Elements ⚜ Principles ⚜ Photographs ⚜ Watercolour

Bruises ⚜ Caffeine ⚜ Color Blindness ⚜ Cruise Ships

Children ⚜ Children's Dialogue ⚜ Childhood Bilingualism

Dangerousness ⚜ Drowning ⚜ Dystopia ⚜ Dystopian World

Culture ⚜ Culture Shock ⚜ Ethnocentrism & Cultural Relativism

Emotions: Anger ⚜ Fear ⚜ Happiness ⚜ Sadness

Emotional Intelligence ⚜ Genius (Giftedness) ⚜ Quirks

Facial Expressions ⚜ Laughter & Humour ⚜ Swearing & Taboo

Fantasy Creatures ⚜ Fantasy World Building

Generations ⚜ Literary & Character Tropes

Fight Scenes ⚜ Kill Adverbs

Food: Cooking Basics ⚜ Herbs & Spices ⚜ Sauces ⚜ Wine-tasting ⚜ Aphrodisiacs ⚜ List of Aphrodisiacs ⚜ Food History ⚜ Cocktails ⚜ Literary & Hollywood Cocktails ⚜ Liqueurs

Genre: Crime ⚜ Horror ⚜ Fantasy ⚜ Speculative Biology

Hate ⚜ Love ⚜ Kinds of Love ⚜ The Physiology of Love

How to Write: Food ⚜ Colours ⚜ Drunkenness

Jargon ⚜ Logical Fallacies ⚜ Memory ⚜ Memoir

Magic: Magic System ⚜ 10 Uncommon ⚜ How to Choose

Moon: Part 1 2 ⚜ Related Words

Mystical Items & Objects ⚜ Talisman ⚜ Relics ⚜ Poison

Pain ⚜ Pain & Violence ⚜ Poison Ivy & Poison Oak

Realistic Injuries ⚜ Rejection ⚜ Structural Issues ⚜ Villains

Symbolism: Colors ⚜ Food ⚜ Numbers ⚜ Storms

Thinking ⚜ Thinking Styles ⚜ Thought Distortions

Terms of Endearment ⚜ Ways of Saying "No" ⚜ Yoga

Compilations: Plot ⚜ Character ⚜ Worldbuilding ⚜ For Poets ⚜ Tips & Advice

all posts are queued. will update this every few weeks/months. send questions or requests here ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[s4vyc4ndy]

BOOK 7 UPDATE SPOILERS !!

ougj GOD I love being an aceyuu fan

[s4vyc4ndy]

Ace's dream is so sweet, it's so straight forwardly fanservice that I didn't expect any of it. Heartslabyul, including Ramshackle, are on vacation, visiting the same island they were sent to in the Stitch event. He had a few voicelines and quips about taking you and Deuce on vacation, and his dream, fulfilled by Malleus, sees it come to.

The real meat of his dream is that the prefect was able to go home and come back, traveling between both worlds. It implies that he thinks about it much more than he lets on. This moment draws parallels to a line from Malleus before he overblots, asking the prefect that if there was a way to go home, but still return to Twisted Wonderland, would they take it? Ace thinks about it as well. Would you come back to him if you could?

[s4vyc4ndy]

Haikyuu!! fic recommendations

(reader inserts) recommendations of my favorite headcanons/imagines/fics/scenarios (i don’t own any)

GENERAL

KARASUNO w/Hinata, Kageyama, Tsukishima, Nishinoya, Daichi, Sugawara & Coach Ukai NEKOMA w/Kuroo & Kenma FUKORODANI w/Bokuto, Akaashi & Konoha AOBA JOHSAI w/Oikawa, Iwazumi & Matsukawa SHIRATORIZAWA w/Ushijima & Semi INARIZAKI w/Osamu, Atsumu, Suna & Kita ITACHIYAMA w/Sakusa JOHZENJI w/Terushima DATE TECHw/Aone & Futakuchi MSBY BLACK JACKALS w/Hinata, Atsumu, Sakusa, Bokuto & Meian EJP RAIJIN w/Suna SCHWEIDEN ADLERSw/Kageyama & Ushijima

Keep reading

[s4vyc4ndy]

SAKUATSU/// fic recommendations

note: read the tags!! + i do not own any of these works

burden of blame

a liar's truth

terminal curiosity

dear dr. love

the 28 postcards you left me

body language

finders keepers

bonds severed & mended

won't you get up off, get up off the roof?

headlights

rinse and repeat

the doctor

eight days a week

reaching through the screen

akaashi's list of steps to make sakusa and atsumu get together

take me to the limit, hold me down there